Rebuild.

That's what calls to her, on this day. Of course, she must move carefully. Make herself useful, integral even. Get the eaglets to love her (use their names, blasphemous as it is). Turn the others towards her, make them see that strength is required. Slowly. Piece by piece.

She will have an army again.

And part of that is securing the meadows. For now, they wish to keep the open border policy. Steller supposes that's a policy she's been taking advantage of, so she won't push back. Yet. Just wait for an incident to happen, though. And she can stage that too, certainly, if she wants to make sure nothing truly bad happens.

Rounding the curve, she notes the lay of the land. What a place, with its blood-red blossoms. Open on every side, a common traveling course for strangers. This place would be hell to defend. But she'll find her ways.

Even now, a stranger walks amidst the blossoms. Too many to count these days, and it's hard to tell which ones are invited guests. She'll really have to start finding ways to suggest to her niece that perhaps the ways of a tender-heart are an easy way to end up with dead children.

"Morning," she calls regardless, her tone neutral, though her gaze is sharp. Each detail absorbed, nothing left to chance.